I'm finally on the last reaping! And this officially marks the last reaping in 2021! I was supposed to get this up on NYE, but didn't quite work out. This past month I was busy doing schoolwork, online school and other personal stuff. I've been in pain so it does affect where I am at in terms of mobility and how miserable I am. I'm supposed to be getting my surgery sometime in 2021, but it depends if they approved me or not.

District 7 Reapings

~Everyday I will remind you, oh

We'll find out what we're made of

When we are called to help our friends in need~

Finley Ryland (12), District 7

Finley looked at the worksheet that was given her. It was simply solving algebraic equations along with word problems thrown into the mix of it. Just the basics for Algebra 1. Finley was only two math classes ahead of her classmates but she found that as a good thing. She hoped it might be good enough for a prestigious high school or college in District 3 to notice her.

She had done a lot of hard work whenever it came to STEM-wise. She loved the challenge, the excitement whenever she thought of a good idea that could work for the future of Panem or the District. Finley could imagine it now-a fifteen year old girl (because why not) getting an acceptance to a high school that offered better STEM classes or even architecture.

Unfortunately, the school that she'd been dreaming of didn't often accept admissions applying from out of District 3. It had been that way even before the war happened. And if they did, the students normally did outstanding in classes or in the science fair. She knew it probably wouldn't happen-but there might be a chance that she could get accepted.

But first, before she started dreaming big-she had to get out of middle school and started doing a couple of science fairs-anything that might increase her chances of getting approved.

Before she could even do any of that, she had to finish her math homework. She was still trying to figure out to do Problem 10. It was her last problem that she had to do for the night, before she could even do something that she wanted to do. She was still very grateful that Mrs. Norris only assigned ten problems per night per lesson, and taught them everything through notes.

She probably would have been done if it wasn't her weakness. Finley did not like solving word problems. She loved problems that were straight forward, just giving her the equation or she had to figure out the equation first. Word problems were messy-had a lot of details which probably half of it could be cut out.

Finley was good at math. It was only word problems that she always had difficulties with. She was never good on the tests while doing those kinds of problems, the same on homework assignments. Sighing, Finley grabbed her notes from her backpack that was near her, and her textbook that she didn't really use-only using it for the homework problems.

She flipped through the pages until she found the right page for the lesson. She knew they went over a couple of problems during class today. And luckily there were a couple of similar problems, which helped her a lot.

She copied off the steps she was supposed to do, just changing the numbers for her problem. Luckily, from there it was a breeze. Finley finished the problem within a couple of minutes, and making sure she did a check for her solutions-even though she knew they were correct.

She wrote her name on the top left corner and slid it in her backpack, under scraps of paper that were her thinking about new designs, and improvements to current technology, they already had. Many of it was how the wold cutters worked and anything that inspired her from day to day life, to help make things easier for the average citizens.

Finley sighed. She hopped off her chair and went into the kitchen, where her mom was currently making dinner. She was currently trying to multitask with babysitting Livia's two toddlers, and cooking dinner at the same time. Livia was currently out with her boyfriend for a few hours so she let mom help her out, so Livia and her boyfriend could have a fun time.

"Hey mom, I was wondering if I could go buy a sketchbook or something?" Finley asked.

She knew it was a long shot. Money just wasn't there. It took all their money for bills, and food and that was it. There was barely any money to cover anything that wasn't a necessity like fun things to do. Sketchbooks were so expensive, but she still hoped maybe one day.

She wanted to keep her drawings of buildings, machines et cetera all in one place. It would be easier instead of going through piles of piles of blueprints to find the one that she was working one. She'd been asking for one ever since she started diving into STEM specifically engineering with a few drawings of building designs.

That was the one thing she wanted to be in life. She had plans, and her dreams to be very successful as soon as she started the admission form in hopes of getting accepted.

"I'm sorry… There just isn't any money for that right now… Maybe for your birthday," She replied. She stirred the red sauce. Finley assumed that it was going to spaghetti or pasta or something else that would involve tomato sauce.

"Okay."

Even though she felt sad about it. It could give her an idea on keeping her blueprints together in order of improvement so she can show off her portfolio and her ideas. It would only be temporary until she can get a sketchbook.

~All my life

Beam a light

On me, I am a satellite

And I can't get back without you~

Grover Woods (17), District 7

Grover waved his elderly grandparents goodbye as he headed off into the woods. His grandparents were in their late sixties and one had trouble walking. Grover loved his grandparents especially when he was younger when his parents were too busy working. He was old enough to live alone at his parent's house for a couple of days, but for nostalgia sakes, he didn't want to.

He loved his grandparents a lot. They taught him a lot of useful things, and helped to where he was at now. He wasn't a scrawny kid who didn't have much strength that essentially made him useless for many types of jobs in the district. He was grateful for them, and they even helped him find a hobby.

"I'll be back around lunch!" Grover cried out, looking over his shoulder. He could see his grandpa nodding with his grandmother heading back inside, probably to lay down a little more. It was still a little early in the morning where workers were just starting their shift or school just starting.

Grover had two weeks off of work for right now. His parents received a big order from one of the richest people in the Capitol who was willing to pay however much they were satisfied with their furniture. Grover had only been working there for a year, but there were some projects he still hadn't had a chance to yet he exceeded his dad's grandparents.

He was fine with it. It gave him some quiet time and he could just hang on Hyperion's branches. Hyperion was his favorite tree that sat at the edge of the district border. Hyperion gave him one of the best views of what is out there minus just woods for miles, and it was peaceful. He also had a chance to finish his creation that he was making.

Though first of all, before he could do that-he had to take care of his jobs in the forest. It was really easy, just climb up on the trees and tie the ropes. Grover was saddened that his blueprints for his idea to help make the district better, couldn't be built. Sadly, there wasn't enough materials and he was still seeking out approval in actually getting his machine up and running.

His invention was supposed to help counter the time of going up the trees and tying the ropes up. There was only one of it, and there were a lot of bugs that Grover probably hadn't worked out. It was working out great so far, but there were so many unknowns that he couldn't try to risk it right now.

Besides, his was just a prototype so far. It did the things right, but that was just with scraps of materials and his blueprints. As soon as Grover worked on the bugs or anything that it was missing, he was going to propose the plan to the mayor and maybe he'd allow it. It would help the district greatly and have a lot of wood to be produced in a way.

He headed towards the edge of the forest. He found the familiar rocky path in front of him. There weren't much people that crossed through here, so it was greatly untouched minus for him and his footprints. It was so quiet and peaceful and he was relaxed.

He looked at the distance and spotted a few deers in the distance, nibbling on the grass on the ground. Grover didn't dare to go closer, and he carefully looked at where he was growing just in case he stepped on a twig that was laying down on the forest floor.

He didn't want to spook the deers. They looked so peaceful, so serene where they were at. Grover turned right away from the deers, and looked up. Deep in the forest, was his favorite redwood treeIt was greatly untouched with a good view. Grover spent a lot of time at this tree, even naming it.

Grover could still remember the nights of his childhood bliss. It was after the war that he didn't remember anything about it, when he discovered the tree. It held a breathtaking view as he often snuck out of the house at night and ran towards Hyperion with his little feet carrying him.

The nights were his favorite. He could see a lot of constellations from the tree and helped map which ones were which thanks to a couple of books about space that Panem approved.

Grover climbed up the tree and steadily went over to the large branch, where it was facing the forest of the outer boundaries of the district. He sighed and pulled out his pocket knife and his wood carving from his pockets. He was trying to make it into a little astronaut to add to his collection in his room. He was almost done with it. He still had to add bits of details and remove the rough spots so that it looked good.

~Sometimes I think too much, yeah, I get so caught up

I'm always stuck in my head

I wish I could escape, I tried to yesterday~

Bloom Heavens, District 7 Mentor

Bloom wiped away some of her tears as she stared in the mirror. Her appearance looked more raggedy than it had before. Her red hair was cut even, and she tried to smile in the mirror-hoping that it would seem real. Most of her smiles were not real, but she was having troubles for the smile to meet her eyes.

She couldn't remember the last time she had been happy. It could have been months, years, decades-but she didn't care. Time was meaningless. Bloom couldn't even remember what day it was, but she knew it was a weekday-but time had no essence so she couldn't be sure.

It was just one of her days where she regretted getting out of her nice, warm, comfy bed. Bloom hated these days-hated being so weak, because her depression took over, where she couldn't even enjoy her time, being free from her abusive husband. She sighed, trying her best to seem alive-that was just fine.

But Bloom wasn't. She wasn't even near fine, but there was no way she was going to admit. Her feelings were a reminder that she just couldn't bear them. After so many years of getting hurt, abused and going through the Hunger Games-and she was still able to feel, and was more sensitive than ever.

But emotions were useless. No one cared about whatever she thought. No one cared whatever she wanted, because they all saw her as someone weak for being a bastard child, and the dark sheep of her family. No one ever even confided her for anything and honestly she couldn't help but think about all her negative things,her demon always whispered to her.

"You're weak...No one loves you, they all abandoned you," The demon whispered inside her head.

Bloom closed her dark green eyes, and squeezed her fists tightly. She knew that was not true, but she couldn't help but believe it. It was true in a way. Everyone abandoned her in some way. They saw someone who was weak, who failed so many times at something so simple. It was easier putting up barriers and pushing everyone away-than getting hurt.

That was how it was for her. She knew it wasn't healthy, being a mess , but it was the only coping mechanism she knew. It was the only thing she had so people stopped walking all over her. But it also wasn't healthy if there was a demon whispering in her head 24/7.

How do you get rid of a monster that lived in your head? How do you feel like you're free, instead of being a burden to everyone? She didn't even know the answer. Hell, she was eighteen and still had no idea.

But how do you get rid of a monster that lived inside your head?

People always told her that the monsters always lived in the closet or underneath the bed, but living in people's heads was something unspeakable, something unheard of. No one wanted to talk about how to get rid of the monster that lives inside your head, eating you up from the inside, and not even bothering paying rent in the meantime.

She was stuck with an unwanted roommate that didn't want to leave. It took so much effort at times to keep it quiet. Sometimes, she felt like she always let the demon win because she wasn't strong enough. She just wasn't strong enough…

Bloom felt a tightness in her throat, tears blurring her eyes and she sobbed. No, not here. Not now.

She was fine! She should have been fine, but how come it didn't feel like she wasn't? She started sobbing and it made her feel more guilty. There was no reason for her to be crying like this. She cleared her eyes full of her tears with a harsh wipe of her hand. Taking a deep breath and trying to make it seem like there was nothing wrong, she grabbed her keys, wallet and a sweatshirt.

She looked around at her very quiet neighborhood. It looked like a ghost town, but then again-it was. She was the only Victor in the entire District and she didn't have any family living with her. They probably didn't want to have anything to do with her especially with her past mistakes and the fact that she recently divorced her husband.

Bloom wished she could produce another victor so that she wasn't alone. No matter how hard she tried giving them advice, they were slaughtered or died of natural causes. It also didn't help if no matter what she said, the gamemakers always tried to do the exact opposite-making it harder for her to do anything.

Bloom just didn't have that kind of luck at all. She wasn't a good luck charm. She wasn't even close to being one especially for herself. She wished everything could be the way it used to be, but sadly, that wasn't the case and it wasn't possible.

Right now, the only thing important to do was just survive and try to get her life back to normal-for whoever long that would take.

~I think he did it but I just can't prove it (he did it)

I think he did it but I just can't prove it

No, no body, no crime~

Amara Chadwick, District 7 Escort

Amara twisted her gold necklace that had her name in cursive. It was a habit whenever she didn't have anything to do, but it also helped her relax. She loved the familiar weight on her neck, and it gave her a sense of peace. It was also one of the last things her dad gave her before he passed away, which made it more special.

"I wish you were here dad," Amara whispered to herself. "You'd be really proud of me."

It felt like it was almost yesterday when she received the news that her dad passed away. They said it was a stray bullet that caught him in his chest. The wrong place at the wrong time they said, but Amara didn't really believe it.

Amara and her parents were really wealthy-probably one of the top five wealthiest people who resided in the Capitol. Of course, that easily meant they had a lot of enemies also because of what they had done during the Dark Days, among other things. Besides, her family was friends with President Edwards before she passed away recently.

Amara always thought it was one of their enemies. After all, why wouldn't they have found the culvert who shot him. Why, even though they tried to offer money on whoever shot him or any information-no one came forward. It was one of the biggest mysteries and Amara was so puzzled by it.

It probably was because of her love mystery. She loved mystery and watching tons of mystery shows, and mystery tv shows growing up, probably didn't help. She didn't believe the detectives or the peacekeepers in telling her what happened because nothing about it made sense.

Amara spent a lot of time with her dad. She probably could have been referred to as "daddy's girl" or whatnot while she was growing up. She went with him almost everywhere minus when he decided to go hang out with his buddies at night drinking until the next morning, where he come over smelling like sex, smoke and alchol.

Her mom just took the answer they gave her, but Amara didn't. There was something more suspicious than that. After all, why would her dad at the shopping district of the Capitol, in a building where he never went and the next thing, shots were fired.

She was so confused.

"I wish you were here to tell me what happened to you, dad," Amara said. She tucked her gold necklace behind her green sundress. It didn't really match well with the outfit, but she had never taken it off especially after her dad passed away.

It was a reminder that he was always here with her. Not physically, but emotionally and spiritually. Amara undid her hair that was in a high ponytail-a few red strands escaping it and gave her a messy appearance. She knew she couldn't go out in public like this.

Sighing, she pulled out the hair tie and did her hair after straightening it. Of course, she wasn't lucky enough to get her mom's straight hair, but she got cursed with her dad's hair. It often made it difficult for her when trying to style her hair because average hairstyles wouldn't cut it.

Of course, it was also because of her mixed ancestry. Her mom was white with brown hair and brown eyes. Her dad, however, had brown/near black skin tone. She was in the middle of her mom and dad's shade, but got her mom's warm brown eyes (before she got them into a lovely shade of bronze again) and her dad's curly hair.

She put on one of her biggest smiles after she slipped on her high heels (four inches), because she did not want to break her ankle on the stage. She could see if now:

AN ESCORT BROKE HER LEG ON STAGE WHILE REAPING THE TWO TRIBUTES.

Amara could have imagined the shame she would have brought on doing that little stunt. There was no way she was going to risk anything like that. Her mother would kill her and the Capitol would probably shun her because of that.

"Let's do this," Amara said to absolutely no one. She opened the door, smiling as she walked past the white peacekeepers who were clutching their guns tightly. She opened another door which led to the stage where the mayor and the past victors sat. She waved them a little bit as she stood in front of the microphone, looking at the district.

The sun was out and was already warming up really quickly. Well, she might as well do this as quickly as she could without getting into trouble.

"Welcome to the 10th annual Hunger Games! As you may know, I am Amara Chadwick and I am your escort for this year's Hunger Games!" Silence.

She continued on, clearing her voice.

"Before we-I mean I, choose this year's tributes. Let's watch a little video on why we have the Hunger Games!"

A couple of minutes later, the video turned off and Amara put on one of the biggest smiles. This has always been one of her favorite parts..

"Our female tribute is...Finely Ryland!"

A small girl with red hair that only reached to her shoulders, shaking and wiping away tears with her free hand as she walked up. She had a blue dress that looked a little faded in a couple of places, probably second hand or something. When Finely got closer, Amara could see a pencil tucked in her ear, and holding a small little paper that was rolled up, in her non-free hand.

"How old are you?"

"T-Twelve," She replied. She looked smiling, but Amara could see that it was a fake smile-it didn't even meet her eyes. Moving on, she dipped her manicured hand into the other reaping and pulled out a white slip.

Unfolding it, she read out,

"Our male tribute is...Grover Woods!"

A guy who looked around to be 5'5, a few inches taller than her 5'2 came out of the sixteen or seventeen year old section. He had on a black t-shirt with tan pants on, and honestly probably was sweating underneath this heat. His black hair stuck up in every direction and was long enough that she couldn't see his eyes.

"How old are you?'

"Seventeen," He replied. He stood next to Finley and was composed better than his district partner was.

"Our two tributes-Finley Ryland and Grover Woods!"

~To amplify the sirens

And to find real amends

I'm through the echo-chambers

To other worlds away~

Grover Woods (17), District 7

Grover stood still as he looked at the black door that prevented him from leaving this room. How could have this happened to him? He didn't want to go leave his family, and home. It just didn't make any sense? How come he couldn't avoid these next two years so he was safe from the reaping age-and didn't have to worry about it again?

He was so close, but fate got him this year. He knew he had to think of something to get past this. There was only one victor all in the nine years, and maybe he would get lucky and survive these games.

The door opened and his parents entered. He was surprised to see them-normally they would have been busy. They were trying to build the furniture the Capitol was asking from them as he guessed they liked his family's work.

"Good luck out there," His dad said. He wrapped his arms around Grover and Grover hugged back. He murmured an "I love you to him" as his mom embraced him.

After a couple of minutes, his parents were told they had to leave. They gave him one last hug, and chatted among themselves probably about their work as Grover stood there, wanting to cry. His throat was tightening, but he refused to cry right here, right now. He swallowed as much as it was painful and stood there.

The doors open again to reveal his elderly grandparents. His grandma walked with her cane as she approached him. She wrapped her wrinkly hands around him and he gave her a hugged back. It was a little awkward since he was inches taller than her-but this was probably the last time, he'd probably ever see his grandparents.

"Good luck out there, son… Remember what I taught," His grandpa said. Grover nodded and hugged him.

Soon, he was left alone and being alone, never felt so scary as now.

~You'll always have my shoulder when you cry

I'll never let go, never say goodbye~

Finley Ryland (12), District 7

Finley wiped away a few tears that were still leaking from her eyes. She still couldn't believe it. This was her first Hunger Games that she was eligible for. Out of all the eligible female tributes, how did she get to be the one for this year? It didn't make any sense.

She wished that she could be back at home, practicing some algebra questions or even learning more geometry. Math always made her feel better whenever she was down, but this was a different equation, a different problem all around-and she couldn't find the answer.

The door opened and her big family piled through. Her dad was holding her mom who was too busy sobbing. Her little brother held Tansy's brother with Livia in the background, pushing a twin stroller of her two twin children. They were only two, too young to understand what was happening, but will understand what's happening when they were older and how they could possibly lose their aunt.

"I don't understand how this happened," Her mom cried. Her dad held her back a little-afraid that she might choke Finley in a big bear hug.

"I'll be okay, mom-I promise," She tried to reassure her, but the words were hollow. She had to try and remain positive for them. It was the only way she could make it out of here without crying because she knew no twelve year old had won the games. The youngest victor was only fifteen and that was out sheer, dumb luck.

Finley looked at her brother who was only two years older than her. From a strangers point of view, they might think they were twins, but Alden was two years older than her. They're just similar in height.

"You don't get into trouble," Finley said, rubbing her brother's hair.

"I won't." Finley knew that he lied about that. Alden was a troublemaker and always liked to play tricks on people.

"Can you tell them about me," She told Livia. She understood what Finley was talking about. Even though there was a high probability that she wouldn't make it out, she would sure and try too.

Last but not least, she talked to her little brother, Decian. He was only a year younger than her, but he understood what occurred and that there is a chance he might be reaped next year. She told him about what she was feeling.

It was only a few minutes later where the peacekeeper knocked on the door and told them it was time to go. Finley waved them goodbye as she watched them get out of the room. She was left alone until her best friend, Ayla showed up with a couple of her friends.

"Try not to get in trouble will you?" She told Ayla.

"No promises. Besides, what's life without a little risk," Ayla responded back.

"A safe life?" Finley responded.

They talked for a few minutes, even saying something to some of Ayla's friends who turned out to be friendly and also, on the reckless side.

Not going to lie-this chapter made me tear up a few times. How could I kill 23 of these wonderful tributes? I hope 2021 will treat us more kindly. Anyway, while I can not promise this at all-there will probably be a lot more updates this year. I'm finally done with reapings and it only took me 2 years to get this far. Drop a review and tell me what you think and I'll see you all hopefully soon!